


Where You and I Fall Apart

by AmethystAmore



Series: Porn Battle [1]
Category: CLAMP - Works, X -エックス- | X/1999
Genre: Asphyxiation, M/M, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-05
Updated: 2014-02-05
Packaged: 2018-01-11 08:14:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1170767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmethystAmore/pseuds/AmethystAmore
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Kamui and Subaru are living together after the events of 1999. And neither of them are quite themselves.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Where You and I Fall Apart

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the porn battle. #17: Replacement Sex.

Subaru is never Subaru when he’s working.

Kamui has never seen him on the job but to see the Sakurazukamori kill would mean he, too, would ultimately die. There was only one exception to this rule, and seeing what became of that unfortunate soul, Kamui almost thinks death would have been a far kinder fate.

But another part, a part that’s sick of losing everything and everyone he’s ever cared for, selfishly clings to the bits and pieces left of Subaru.  He treasures the mess of a man living in his apartment, smoking on his balcony when he thinks Kamui isn’t around, eating in his kitchen only to keep himself alive, sharing his bed on nights when they both just want to pretend this isn’t their reality.

 _Because it’s all he has left_.

Kamui sees glimpses of the Sakurazuka head from time to time. Mostly when he first comes home from a fresh kill, and the blood is dried on his coat and gloves, and his eyes, the gold in particular, stare back at him, challenging him to ask about his day...

“I’ll be in the shower,” Subaru says loftily, gliding past the former Messiah and letting the door click shut behind him.  

Kamui stares at the droplets of blood that fell from Subaru’s coat. He sometimes wonders about the people he’s killed. But knows better than to ask. The first and last time he even tried, Subaru merely smiled.

He could handle Seishirou’s presence… But he never wanted to see his smirk mar Subaru’s features again.

~

Kamui knows that the Subaru he sees at home isn’t exactly the Subaru he used to know either. But it’s the closest he’ll get.

This is the Subaru who let his hair grow slightly longer, letting it frame his face in a way that can only be described as pretty.  He never takes his gloves off in front of anyone, not even for Kamui.  He looks at the pack of mild sevens his work self chain smokes with sadness and regret. His voice is softer, higher.  He refers to his sister in the present tense.

This is Subaru, age sixteen, from long before Kamui met him. This is the Subaru who still had a twin, and a grandmother who called him to offer him jobs for the family business.  

This is the Subaru who fell in love with a psychopath.

When he sleeps with Subaru, it’s always with this particular ghost. (The other Subaru has no need for sex, and Kamui is honestly fine with that.) But the act is hardly what he can call “satisfying.”  They both need and want it, just not with each other.

Thing is, Kamui used to want Subaru. Part of him always will.

But most nights… when Subaru is shivering and moaning softly beneath him (on his stomach; never on his back), Kamui misses Kotori.  He tries to see her in Subaru, just like Subaru tries to feel Seishirou in him.

Neither of them are good at pretend.  But he tries…. He tries to imagine that the gasps he hears are feminine, the fingers gripping the sheets are bare and smaller than his own. He pretends those hips he’s moving against are wider, softer. He forgets that Subaru isn’t interested in those gentle caresses Kotori loved.

But sometimes… Sometimes there’s a night like this one….

A night when he’s thrusting just a little too hard into Subaru, when Subaru actually responds to that roughness and pushes back breathless and needy. His hands move on their own and grab and hold the body under his down in a demanding grip.  

On nights like this, Kamui thinks of Fuuma.

But those memories grow less warm the more he comes back to them, the jumbled pieces of his childhood colliding with his teenaged years in a maelstrom of emotional turmoil and longing.

He thinks of Fuuma’s warm eyes and concerned smiles. He thinks of _Fuuma’s_ cold eyes and cutting smirks.  He remembers Fuuma’s warm embraces and the way he would care for his wounds when he was hurt. He remembers _Fuuma’s_ dominating presence and the way he would stab him when he was hurt. He recalls Fuuma promising to protect him. He recalls _Fuuma_ promising to kill him.

He forgets to feel bad about hurting Subaru, forgets that Subaru wants to be hurt.  He forgets Subaru entirely and pretends it’s Fuuma he’s fucking. It’s _Fuuma_ laughing at him when he growls and claws his back, not Subaru sobbing and panting at the treatment. It’s Fuuma telling him to go faster, not Subaru pleading for more.

He forgets where Fuuma begins and where he ends, if he’s the Dragon of Heaven or the Dragon of Earth… Probably both after he-

 _After he_ -

Subaru’s voice breaks into a pained cry when Kamui digs his nails into his arms and twists. He moves his hands to Subaru’s throat, squeezes his eyes shut with a faint smirk as Subaru chokes and comes under him.

He imagines he’s _Fuuma_ when he follows.

~

Subaru’s already buttoning up his coat when Kamui leaves the shower.  The teenaged persona fades back into the past as the Sakurazukamori dresses for a night job, a clean coat and gloves readjusted.

Kamui looks on. He feels nothing.

“Don’t wait up for me, Kamui-kun,” the older man says, departing with a small, cold smile and kiss to the cheek that leaves nothing but bitter resentment in it’s wake.

The Kamui who cares about Subaru almost apologises. For not being Seishirou. For missing the memory of Kotori and Fuuma more than longing for what Subaru used to be.  The Sakurazukamori knows better than anyone a lie when he hears it.  Kamui doesn’t even bother trying.

Instead the smaller man smiles back, sharp and dangerous, with the echo of the Dragon of Earth answering in his stead.

“Happy hunting, _Subaru-kun_.”


End file.
